


Fitz's Hugs

by BakersHuntress



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Humor, Slight FitzSimmons, friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakersHuntress/pseuds/BakersHuntress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz gives the best hugs. Skye, Bobbie, May, and Jemma (of course) know from first-hand experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitz's Hugs

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: 'Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.' does not belong to me.

"What's wrong, Simmons?" Bobbi's voice breaks through Jemma's reverie. She'd been leaning over the breakfast bar in the Playground's kitchen making notes on a yellow legal pad. When she looks up, Bobbi is pouring herself some coffee.

"You look like the lab exploded, and you're trying to come up with a lie to tell Coulson."

Jemma lets out a snort.

"No. Nothing of that sort happened."

"So what are you working on that's got you glaring at paper?"

Jemma sighs and straightens up to properly look at Bobbi, who is now leaning against the counter with both hands wrapped around the coffee mug.

"Fitz's birthday is coming up, and I don't know what to get him."

"Did I hear something about Fitz's birthday?"

Jemma and Bobbi turn towards the door just as May and Skye walk through it. They've obviously just come from an intense workout session judging from how sweaty their workout clothes are and how wet their hair look.

"Yes. It's coming up in two weeks, but I still haven't a clue what to get him."

Skye makes her way to the refrigerator and grabs two bottles of water. She tosses one to May, who stood at the end of the breakfast bar.

"Well, whatever you're getting, I want in. I've no idea what to get him either."

"Count me in, too," Bobbi says, and May simply nods, indicating that she wants in as well.

"Any ideas, then? I'm actually stuck. I want to give him something special, something he'll love. But let's face it, all he really wants is a monkey. And that's not likely going to happen."

"Why not?" Bobbi asks.

"Because I won't allow it. Do you know how many diseases monkeys could potentially carry? And it's not very practical to keep a monkey in a secret base. And when will Fitz find the time to train it? Plus, I doubt the Director would approve."

"Gotcha."

"But, that said, Fitz _does_ deserve a great present after all he's been through and all the progress he's made."

"And the fact that, just months ago, we didn't think he'd make it to his birthday?" May suggests, voicing out Jemma's real thoughts. An overwhelming rush of emotion takes away her voice, and she is only able to nod her response.

"You're right, Jemma," Skye breaks in almost too cheerfully, "Fitz deserves a great present. He came through for us and saved our lives so many times. Plus," she lets out a wistful sigh, "He gives the best hugs."

The others nod in agreement.

It takes a second, but Skye's words and their implications finally register in Jemma's ears. It takes another second for her to realize that May and Bobbi are nodding along with her. She narrows her eyes at each of them in turn.

"How do you all know about Fitz's hugs?"

When she hears her own words, Jemma thinks she detects a hint of jealousy. But she quickly dismisses the thought. She isn't jealous. Why would she be jealous?

And why aren't the others answering her?

As Jemma ponders this; Skye, Bobbi, and May are lost in her respective thoughts reminiscing on how exactly they know about Fitz's hugs.

* * *

_Skye_

Skye hated how she couldn't squash the little part of her that wanted to get to know her biological father—that wondered where he was and what he was doing.

She knew it was stupid of her to allow her thoughts to revolve so much around a murderer…a _monster_.

But becoming those things didn't change the fact that that man was still her father.

Whenever he pervaded her thoughts, she'd hide out in the BUS's command center until someone came looking for her. She would sit atop the holotable (turned off, of course) with her laptop on her lap, and pretended to be reading something on her screen.

"Hey," a soft voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up and met Fitz's worried eyes. "Are you okay, Skye? You're…you're kind of causing a mini-quake."

Only when he'd said it did she realize the slight vibrations.

"I'm sorry," she said, a bit flustered. "Let me just…."

She closed her eyes and pulled her thoughts together. After forcibly calming herself, she sensed for the earth. She stretched her senses passed the floors and walls of the BUS and passed the layers of concrete of the Playground's foundation. Once she felt the earth, she willed it to stop moving.

Even after several weeks of practice, it still surprised her when the earth obeyed.

"I'm sorry," she said again once she reopened her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Fitz was quick to reassure her. He stepped further into the command center and closer to her. "Like I said, it was just a mini-quake. I don't think anyone else noticed. Only reason I did was because I've got sensors monitoring seismic activity."

Skye frowned.

"I thought I've gotten this stupid power under control."

Fitz shrugged and leaned back against the holotable.

"Considering it's been less than three months, I'd say you've got a pretty good handle on it."

His words reassured her somewhat.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

She looked down at her laptop screen unsure of how to answer.

"Been thinking about your dad again, huh?"

Skye's head snapped towards him.

"Don't look so surprised. It wasn't hard to figure out. Only one subject ever makes you lose control these days. And you usually hide out here when you think about him. I work in the garage, Skye. You really think I wouldn't notice one of my best friends walking passed me?"

She couldn't help but smile at the 'best friend' comment.

"So what's going on?" he tried again.

"I just…," she started, finally giving in. "I can't help it. I know he's killed so many people. And he almost killed Coulson. But…."

"But he's your dad."

"Yeah…."

They both didn't say anything for several seconds.

"If you want to try and find him, I'll help. And I promise not to say anything to anyone if you prefer to keep it a secret. Not even to Jemma or Mack."

His words stunned Skye.

Up until then, most everyone kept telling her to stay away from her father. They kept reminding her of all the horrible things he's done, all of which she already knew about. They kept on insisting that no good could come of him becoming a part of her life.

Fitz's offer—said so sincerely and without judgment—was…unexpected.

Her confusion must have shown on her face because he explained himself without her prompting.

"I understand, is all. He's your dad. And if…," he broke eye-contact and looked towards the floor, "If my dad suddenly showed up one day and told me he'd been looking for me, that I'd been hidden from him, that he was sorry he wasn't there when I was growing up, and that he…that he loves me.… If he did all that, then I'd be tempted to give him a chance, too, no matter what bad things he's done."

Skye gasped. Fitz had just voiced everything that she'd been thinking.

For months, Skye battled with her guilt. She felt like an ingrate for wanting to get to know her biological father, especially after all the things Coulson has done for her. And here was Fitz—one of her best friends—telling her that he understood and offering to go behind everyone else's back to help her find her monster of a father.

"Does that make me bad?" she asked timidly. "That I still want to know him even after… _everything_?"

"If it does, then you're not alone, because I'd be just as bad."

Skye never appreciated her friendship with Fitz more than she did at that moment.

"Jemma—she grew up with both her mum and dad beside her and supporting her," he continued. "I envied her for that, you know. Not that I don't love my mum, because I do. And I know she did her best with me. But it's hard to forget that you don't have a father when there's a whole day dedicated to celebrating them. I couldn't help the little pang of hurt and envy whenever Fathers' Day would come, and Jemma would be all excited to call her dad. And then we got put on this team…."

He trailed off and turned away. He looked as if he was deciding if he should continue. After a few seconds, he did.

"Coulson—he was everything I'd always hoped my father had been." He gave a humorless laugh. "It's stupid isn't it?"

She gave him a smile.

"Not as stupid as you might think."

He gave a smile back.

"Easy for you to say," he nudged her arm softly with his elbow, "Everyone knows you're his favorite."

A laugh made its way out of her mouth. And it felt so nice. She hasn't laughed like that in a long time.

"So Coulson is your father figure as well?" she asked after she sobered up.

"Yeah. I even," he trailed off again, the tips of his ears turning red, "I even made him a present for Fathers' Day. Didn't have the nerve to give it to him, though."

"Why not?"

He shrugged.

"Afraid he'd reject it."

"You mean, you were afraid he'd reject _you_ ," she stated. He didn't say anything in reply. "He wouldn't, you know?"

"He might."

Skye dropped the subject, knowing it was a battle that she wouldn't win that day.

"So your Bio Dad. What's the story there?" she said instead.

"Mum says he left us. She never went into detail. And I was so angry that I didn't want to know the details."

She watched him silently as he stared at the wall in front of him.

"Hey, Fitz." She waited until he turned to her. "Before Fathers' Day comes again, could you help me find a gift for Coulson? Then we can give our gifts together."

The smile he gave was hesitant. But he eventually nodded his assent.

"Of course."

"And about your offer to help me find Cal—thanks. I won't do anything soon. I still need to do a lot more thinking before I do something stupid and drastic. But, _really_ , thank you."

There was no hesitation in his smile this time around. Then he surprised her by moving to stand in front of her and spreading out his arms.

"Come here," he said.

Skye gave a short laugh as she set her laptop aside, hopped off of the holotable, and accepted his invitation. Warmth surrounded her as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Both you and I consider Coulson a father figure. You know what that makes us, don't you?"

For once, the vibrations she felt wasn't caused by her powers, but by the force of his laughter.

"We're siblings," he answered.

"This is so cool! I've always wanted a little brother!"

She pulled back and smirked when she saw his expression. Just as she had expected, he was scowling.

"I'm older than you, Skye."

* * *

_Bobbi_

She hated it when Mack was right.

And she knew he was right. But she couldn't help it. Bobbi Morse had one weakness, and his name was Lance Hunter.

They were bad together. She knew that, too. And their relationship always ended horribly, with tears and heartache and hurtful words. She used to think—long ago when she was still young and naïve—that she would eventually be numb to the pain. Then she'd wake up one day and realized she hated Lance Hunter and wanted nothing to do with him.

But she found herself incapable of hating him. And eight breakups later (she sometimes hated how she remembered _everything_ ), it felt the same as it did the first time their relationship crashed into a brick wall, was doused in gasoline, and was ignited with a hand grenade.

Sometimes, she'd made herself believe it was worth it. That the first few days (hours, sometimes) at the start of their renewed relationship—where they'd laugh and kiss and promise to trust one another—was worth the eventual heartache.

Then the suspicions (on Lance's part) would grow. Trust would be strained. The fights would soon follow.

And the words—god, the words they'd throw at each other caused far deeper and more painful wounds than any damage her batons or his sidearm would ever make. Even worse, those wounds were very, very slow to heal.

Bobbi really hated when Mack was right.

But at the same time, she wished the big oaf was in his garage on the BUS so he could comfort her like he always did whenever she and Hunter would break up. As much as she complained about his big-brother tendencies, she would always, _always_ run to him first whenever she and Hunter had their eventual breakup.

No wonder he hated it whenever she and Hunter started up their relationship again.

She was so lost in her thoughts of her and Hunter, and trying to find comfort in Mack's workspace since his actual presence was currently recovering in the infirmary, that she didn't hear Fitz until he was more than half-way up the loading ramp.

She turned and quickly, discretely wiped away any stray tears. She avoid looking in his direction, though. There was no way she'd be able to hide her puffy eyes and reddened nose. She really hated being an ugly crier.

"Agent Morse?" he said slowly once he reached the cargo hold. "Can I…can I help you with something?"

"It's Bobbi, Fitz." It would have sounded lighthearted if it didn't come out so watery. "You're as bad as Jemma. How many times do I have to remind you two?"

She turned to him then, knowing that there was no point in hiding her face. She'd already given evidence she'd been crying with her voice. That's when she noticed he was in his work clothes—garage overalls worn halfway with the arms wrapped around his waist like a belt and a well-fitted, light grey tank top.

_Looks like someone's imitating Mack's get-up_ , she smiled at her thought.

"I'll get out of your way," she said and began to walk passed him.

"Ha-hang on, um, Bobbi. I just…." She turned to look at him when he trailed off. "I've been meaning to t-thank you."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"For what?" she asked, grateful he hadn't mentioned her swollen eyes and red nose.

He looked down briefly.

"For…for preventing me from shooting Mack back in the tunnels."

Bobbi closed her eyes as the memory of what she'd done brought on a different kind of hurt to her heart.

"I know you blamed yourself for his falling," he continued quickly, as if afraid she was going to starting yelling or crying. He might have been right. "But his p-possessed body was able to withstand that fall, and he's recovering nicely in the infirmary. I highly doubt he would have been impervious to a bul-bullet to the heart. You saved him, Bobbi. You saved him from _me_."

At his last words, Bobbi finally saw it—the same self-loathing she felt for what had happened to Mack in those tunnels.

She was hating a lot of things at that moment, but seeing Fitz loath himself for nearly killing his best (male) friend had topped the list. He didn't do anything wrong. In fact, from what she'd seen, he'd done everything right.

He'd given Mack several chances to break out of his trance—even ignoring Coulson's direct order to shoot. His actions had given her the time she needed to get to her batons so she could incapacitate Mack. It was purely bad luck that he'd stumbled towards the hole and fallen down the hundred feet.

Fitz shouldn't be blaming himself for something that did not even happen.

"Tell you what, Fitz," she started, "I'll make you a deal: You stop kicking yourself for almost shooting Mack, and I'll stop hating myself for electrocuting him and then accidentally sending him down a hundred-foot drop."

He looked uncertain for a few seconds before he reached a resolution.

"Deal."

He gave her a half smile. She gave him a full one back. Then she turned to leave, but Fitz stopped her again.

"Are…are you okay?"

Again, Bobbie stopped and turned to look at him.

"I know it's rude to pry, but you look like you've been crying."

She involuntarily stiffened. She must have looked intimidating because Fitz looked panicked as he hurried to explain.

"You and Hunter weren't very quiet. We all heard the f-fight."

Bobbi didn't embarrass easily, but at that moment, knowing that the whole base heard them, she was mortified. She didn't know if she wanted to run or cry or both. But before she could decide, she heard Fitz mutter, "Oh, sod it," to himself before she felt his arms wrap around her torso.

"I'm not hit-hitting on you, I promise," he said quickly into her neck because he didn't quite reach her ear with her in two-inch-heeled combat boots. "I just know how much heartbreak hurts. When I was going through mine, I didn't have anyone to…to turn to. That is, not until Mack became my friend. He's a lot better at this than I. But, I'm here for you if you need me."

She didn't know exactly what made her to do it—she hardly knew Fitz—but she wrapped her arms around him and lowered her head so it could rest on his shoulder, anyway. No matter how badass she may be, every woman needed some comfort after a bad breakup. And if she couldn't have Mack, well, Fitz was actually pretty good at this comforting thing.

"Do you want me to kick his arse?"

She couldn't help but laugh. Hunter was great with weapons and with hand-to-hand combat. She couldn't picture Fitz going up against him and winning. But then she remember the story about how he came up with the plan that successfully subdued a gifted who could literally turn any body part into any material. And that was _before_ he'd healed as much as he was now. The man comforting her could easily build a device that could kick Hunter's ass, and he wouldn't even have to get his hands dirty.

"No. It was my fault this time." She really was feeling better already. At least better enough to joke. "Are all Brits as short as you and Hunter?"

He pulled back slightly and frowned.

"This is what I get for consoling you? I'll have you know, I'm actually quite average in height. Not my fault you're so freakishly tall."

She laughed again and pulled him back into another hug.

"I'm only joking. And if you haven't noticed, I was married to a British man shorter than me."

She was grateful when he didn't push her away.

"Though I didn't think I'd find a British man shorter than Hunter."

"I've decided that I don't like you," he said. But he doesn't let her go.

She let out another laugh, feeling a lot better and a lot lighter than she had before Fitz came along.

* * *

_May_

May hated it when Coulson got hurt. She hated it even more when he was hurt badly enough to warrant bed rest for several days.

And her main reason for hating it so much was not because he was in pain and suffering (though she did feel badly about that). No, her main reason for hating it was because with Coulson incapacitated, May was now the acting Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

To think, when the team first formed, her only role was to drive the BUS.

Now, she was surrounded by no less that twenty file folders, all of which needed to be reviewed by two o'clock so she could move onto the next set of problems. Most held information on potential recruits. Some held all information they've gathered on known enemies. The rest: utility bills.

And May still had to reevaluate the amount of petty cash that should be allotted for food. Bringing Hunter into the fold was bad enough with him always stocking the refrigerator with beer. But then Fitz finally got his appetite back.

Unlike with the alcohol, May would gladly pay $400 dollars more per month for food to feed Fitz.

Just as she was about to start reading through the next file folder, two soft knocks were made on the office door. She looked up to see Fitz holding a tray of food.

"Sorry for interrupting," he said as he walked towards her. "But you missed lunch. Thought I'd bring you some."

She gave him a rare smile.

"Thanks. Just leave that there. I'll eat later."

He placed the tray on the table adjacent to the one she was sitting at, but didn't leave like she'd expected him to. He just stood before her desk, fidgeting.

"You…you said the same thing at breakfast. But you hardly touched the pancakes Jemma made you."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, amused.

"You keeping tabs on me now?"

He looked so uncomfortable that she couldn't get irritated at him if she tried.

"You watched out for me when I was st-still healing. I'm just returning the favor. Plus, we've got to watch out for each other, yeah?"

She sighed, but gave in. Standing up from her chair, she walked towards the tray of food, stabbed a broccoli with the fork, and took a bite.

"Happy?" she asked after she swallowed.

He nodded but didn't leave. She ate a piece of the baked salmon, and a smile formed on his lips.

"Do you need help with anything?" he asked after her third bite.

"No. But thank you, Fitz."

He still didn't leave.

"You d-don't have to do this alone, you know? Coulson was able to do all this because h-he had you to help him. I could help you. Or Skye or Jemma, if you prefer. I could also find Koenig for you—"

"Fitz, you're rambling."

"Right. Sorry." When he looked down to avoid her stare, May saw the tips of his ears reddening slightly. "It's just…." He met her eyes again. "I want you to know that you're not alone in all this."

He paused, and she just stared at him and waited for him to continue.

"In Puerto Rico, when the ground shook and everything started to cr-crumble all around us, I kept thinking how I was glad I wasn't alone—that I had Jemma with me. Then I find out Coulson was with Mack, Hunter with Bobbi, and Trip went after Skye. But you, you were alone. I…I'm sorry that you were alone."

She kept her face emotionless, but inside, May was beyond touched. Seriously, if there had been a guarantee that a child of hers would have turned out like the man before her, she might have considered procreating.

"Don't hit me, okay," he said, breaking her out of her thoughts. Then, before she fully registered what he'd said, he moved forward and hugged her.

She stiffened in his arms. After a few seconds, she relaxed in his embrace and allowed him to hug her.

"I'm glad you're all right," he whispered, then he pulled away before she had a chance to return the hug. He ducked his head—presumably to hide his blush—and turned to walk away.

"Fitz," she called when he was almost to the door. He stopped and turned to face her. "There's actually something you could help me with."

The fear and apprehension in his eyes gave way to eagerness.

"Anything." He moved closer to take the file folder she held out towards him.

"I'm trying to decide if it's a good idea to let someone into our fold. His name is Dr. Andrew Garner. He's a medical doctor. As good as Simmons has been as our primary medic, she may need help if a time came when there are more serious injuries or if there are several injured people at the same time. Plus, I don't want to put the responsibility of being our sole medical officer _and_ the only person running the Science Division on her shoulders."

Fitz studiously avoided looking at her after she'd said that last bit.

"Was he S.H.I.E.L.D.? Can we trust him?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the file folder.

"He was never in S.H.I.E.L.D. But he's a consultant with the CIA. And he _is_ trustworthy. My mother can confirm that."

Fitz finally looked up at that, his eyes wide with surprise. May couldn't blame him. It was the first time she'd ever mentioned a family member to anyone other than Coulson. After several seconds, he was able to speak again.

"What's the problem then?"

"He's my ex-husband."

And his jaw involuntarily drops.

* * *

_Jemma_

"How do you know about Fitz's hugs?" she asks again.

And again, Jemma thinks that it almost sounded like she's jealous. Which she isn't. Not at all.

The silence from the others stretches on, and Jemma frowns at the women before her. Skye is the first to break the awkward silence.

" _Pfffttt!_ How can we _not_ know that with how much you talk about it?"

Jemma involuntarily raises an eyebrow.

Then Bobbi jumps in.

"You were saying just the other day how you weren't as worried as you should have been in that tunnel during the quake because you felt safe in his arms. You also admitted to wanting another hug from him since then, and that you missed having him close by now that he's working in the garage."

Skye backs her up.

"And I remember you _also_ saying that he's always given the warmest, _best-est_ hugs. Even during your Academy days. But then you went on to say that there was no way to quantify a hug, so the statement was not scientifically accurate."

"You can't hold those against me! I might have been slightly tipsy then."

"Sweetie, there was nothing 'slight' about it. You were full on drunk. But drunken confessions count. Like how you confessed how much you missed cuddling with Fitz. You said you two used to cuddle all the time during the Academy when you watched your weekly shows. But when you both became agents and Section 17 came into play, you two decided that cuddling would be too risky."

"Agent Simmons," May cuts in, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous at the thought of Fitz hugging us."

"I'm not jealous!" Jemma says too quickly.

"That's good to hear," May says as she starts to leave the kitchen. "Because Fitz hugged _me_." She stops and turns so she is facing Jemma with an impish smile. "And I can definitely say that your observations are accurate. His hugs _are_ the best." With that, May continues her way out of the kitchen.

Jemma watches her go with an open mouth.

"Fine," Skye says after a beat. "I confess: He hugged me, too."

Jemma's head snaps to her. Skye merely shrugs.

"We've decided we're sibling, and I'll hug my little brother whenever I want to." She sends Jemma a cheesy grin before following after May.

"He's older than you, Skye. And when did you two decide that?" Jemma shouts after her. But she doesn't answer.

Once Skye disappears out the door, Jemma turns to Bobbi and raises an eyebrow in question.

"What? I have a thing for short, British men. But you can relax, I'm still trying to get over mine. I'm not going to take yours."

Jemma attempts to say something along the lines of "Fitz does not belong to me," but Bobbie starts to leave before she could get her mouth to work properly again.

"Don't forget to let us know what you're planning to get Fitz for his birthday. We still want in on it," Bobbi says as she walks out the door.

Jemma just stares after her friend.

After several seconds, she pulls herself together and returns to her yellow legal pad, now more determined to come up with the perfect present for Fitz. And she is definitely _not_ going to let the others in on it.

They'll just have to find their own.


End file.
